Air Bound

13

NIGHT appeared to fall quickly out at sea. The sun vanished, pouring liquid gold into the waters, turning the horizon orange and red in a spectacular display, and then that fast it was gone. Airiana gripped the railing hard and looked down at the dark waters. Just minutes before the ocean was bright and jeweled, sparkling even, and now it held a sinister quality, as if below the surface all kinds of predators lurked waiting for an opportunity to pull the yacht beneath the waves.

She shivered. More than anything, she wanted to go home. Sea Haven was magical and peaceful and she needed her family. She wasn’t the adventurous type, no matter what Maxim might think. She lived much more in her head than others thought. Right now, Maxim had driven out the numbers and patterns and mostly she just fantasized about him.

She found it rather humiliating that she couldn’t get him out of her head, although now she knew for certain that she was in his and that made it all much more bearable. If she had to suffer—he could as well.

A wave leapt up, splashing along the railing, surprisingly high, the sound like a loud slap. Across the water, in the distance, she could see lights and that was somewhat comforting. Knowing they were close to a shore—and to people—left her feeling as if there was hope that she would get home soon.

Theodotus had been just as cooperative as Maxim predicted, insisting to the captain that they turn the boat around, that he had arranged for a plane much closer than their first destination. He’d been very persuasive, and as far as she could see, the captain and crew seemed to take everything Theodotus said as gospel.

The wind tugged at her hair and brought with it news. She could feel the air stretching around her like a map, showing her the location of anyone out on the decks. She lifted one hand to tuck strands of flyaway hair behind her ear as she turned to face the two men dressed in white coming toward her.

She recognized Gorya immediately, and the man with him was the first mate, Boris something, she remembered. She sent them a small smile. “It suddenly turned very dark out there,” she gestured toward the open sea. “You’re probably used to it, but it’s a little scary for me.”

The men kept walking straight toward her and she felt her heart accelerate with each purposeful step they took.

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

“You need to come with us now,” Gorya said. “For your own safety. The captain wants you off the deck.”

Maxim. Where are you? They’re taking me off the deck.

She stepped away from the railing, very cooperative. “Has something happened?”

“It’s just a precaution, nothing more,” Boris assured. His fingers settled around her arm, and she knew it wasn’t just a precaution.

They were taking her prisoner. Had the security force somehow woken up and escaped? Had Theodotus?

Where are you?

Don’t panic. These men work for Sorbacov, this is his yacht, not your father’s, and his men reported to him. He’s countered Theodotus’s orders. Of course the first thing they’ll do is try to secure you.

She noticed he used the word try. She pulled back, stubbornly refusing to move. “Please don’t grab me. I don’t like people putting their hands on me.”

The two stared at each another, Boris obviously unimpressed with her haughtily delivered order. He didn’t relinquish his hold on her.

“Gorya?” She raised her eyebrow, turning to the steward for help. “I don’t mind going with the two of you, but I won’t be dragged around like a rag doll.”

“I don’t much care what you like,” Boris snapped, dropping all pretense of civility. He tightened his hold on her arm and dragged her several steps across the deck.

Airiana took three stumbling steps and let out a cry of pain as her foot came down hard. Boris paused, and she shot him in the side of the neck with her dart gun. He grunted, his mouth still forming a curse, his eyes wide with shock. For a moment he teetered back and forth and then he toppled like a giant tree, his hand still clamped around her arm.

She went down with him and lay for a moment fighting for breath. Gorya hurried to her side, still unaware that she’d darted Boris. The moment he got close, he realized something was wrong and let out a shout for help. He leapt back just as she brought up the dart gun. Rolling over to come to her hands and knees, she started to rise.

Gorya kicked her hard in the ribs, sending her sprawling across Boris’s body. Pain exploded through her, but she held on to the dart gun as if it were her lifeline—and maybe it was. She kept rolling, trying to stay away from Gorya’s feet. He seemed to be everywhere, dancing close and whirling away in some strange form of martial arts she’d never seen before.

He was faster than she would have believed him to be, but she should have known that everyone working on the yacht was probably highly trained in combat skills as well as their daily jobs.

Gorya kicked her repeatedly, strike after strike, always dancing out of reach, so fast she couldn’t aim the dart gun. She kept moving away from him but she was running out of deck. It was only a matter of time before he landed a blow hard enough to break something.

This man is making me angry.

Losing your temper won’t help. Just take aim and shoot the bastard.

She wanted to curse, but she didn’t have time. Gorya nailed her in her arm, deadening it, so that the dart gun slipped from nerveless fingers.

I need to be able to bring him down.

You really need to pay more attention in your self-defense class, Maxim said.

Really? I don’t think so.

She had a few defenses of her own, and Gorya’s weird monkey-like dancing was making her feel a little seasick. She was tired of everyone suddenly turning from nice to enemy. She felt surrounded on all sides, and she just wanted to go home.

Airiana called to the wind to defend her. It came pouring over the yacht, fast, furious, slamming into Gorya as he rolled close to her, lashed out with his foot and retreated. The wind howled, an entity without mercy, as it struck, hitting him square in the chest, uncaring how fast he was. Uncaring how trained he was.

Gorya hit the railing hard, so hard she heard a terrible crack and a scream. The wind was relentless, sliding beneath his legs and lifting them into the air so that he teetered on the railing.

“Enough,” she whispered to the wind. “That’s enough.”

Scooping up the dart gun, she tried to push herself to her feet. There didn’t seem to be a place on her body that didn’t hurt. The wind lessened its fury, but hadn’t died down that much, still tugging and pushing at the steward’s body, trying to get him away from Airiana.

Gorya screamed, galvanizing her into action. She forced herself to her feet. Her legs felt like rubber and she went down to one knee just as Gorya slipped off the railing into the dark water below.

She closed her eyes for a moment and knelt there, trying to catch her breath. Tears burned. She’d just killed a man, using her gifts. It was so wrong. She was supposed to use them for good, never evil. This life was madness. She couldn’t imagine how Maxim had survived it and stayed sane all those long years.

She not only felt the vibration of running footsteps, but heard them as well. Maxim wouldn’t make any noise. If he came to her, it would be in silence. He knew she was in trouble, so he’d be there if he could.

Tell me you’re still alive, she whispered and pressed her palm hard to her thigh. She needed him. Not to save her life again, but just to hold her. Just for a minute.

She sank back onto the deck and shoved the few extra darts Maxim had given her back into the gun. Crawling, she made it to Boris’s body. Dragging his dead weight was much harder than she’d anticipated and whoever was coming was close. In the end, she sank down, using Boris for a shield, trying to blend into the shadows as Maxim did.

I’m alive, Maxim assured her. I’ve got a couple of them stalking me. I’ve already taken out two.

I’ve done the same, but someone’s coming.

Can you hide?

I’m trying your blurring technique. It seemed very useful. She used the air around her to build a little cocoon, wrapping herself up tight in the hopes that it would make it more difficult to spot her.

Maxim’s gift of fading into the background wasn’t just because he was bound to air, it was more than that, but still, she knew part of what he did was wrapping air around himself to “muddy” his image.

The captain skidded to a halt, an assault rifle in his hands. He looked furious, and ready to shoot anything that moved. She held herself very still, even holding her breath, afraid that anything at all might give her away. She wasn’t certain why she found the captain so much more intimidating—maybe it was the assault rifle and the businesslike look on his face.

He spotted Boris’s body and took his time, scanning the deck for trouble before he crossed to the body and reached down to feel for a pulse. He looked right at her and her heart stuttered and then began to pound. He touched Boris’s neck and found the dart. He cursed as he pulled it out, once more looking around.

He hadn’t seen her. Wrapping herself in layers of air had blurred her image enough that the shadows successfully kept her hidden. Reluctant to move and possibly draw attention to herself, Airiana debated whether or not to try to use the dart gun on him. Her hand already was shaking, but a small warning alarm kept going off in her head. Earlier, in the patterns she’d seen in the clouds, there had been violence, the deck riddled with bullets.

There was no sound at all to warn her, but she was suddenly aware she was not alone with the captain. Maxim had joined them. She strained her eyes looking for him, searching the darkest parts of the deck, but she still couldn’t discover where he was. The captain must have his own radar because he suddenly crouched low, not more than four feet from her, the rifle ready, scrutinizing every inch of the deck systematically.

Above you. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.

She didn’t turn her head or tilt it, but just looked up with her eyes. Even then, with him telling her where he was, she failed to spot him immediately. When she did, the breath rushed from her lungs. He was on the ceiling of the overhang above the bar, like a spider, stretched out, using fingertips and toes to push himself like a giant spider to the very edge of the overhang.

How do you do that? Because that wasn’t human. No one could hang upside down from a ceiling and not fall. That was completely defying gravity.

Air. There are all kinds of uses for air. You’ve never had to use them so you haven’t considered them, but a large cushion of air can help hold me in position for a fairly long time. He was so matter-of-fact. He loomed over them, both her and the captain.

The captain never once thought to look up. He was on the deck, most of which was open, and it just didn’t occur to him that Maxim could be overhead. She pressed her lips together tightly. She was terrified of giving Maxim away. It had been better when she hadn’t known where he was. Now, it took every ounce of discipline she had not to stare at him. She feared that intensity might just draw the captain’s attention.

The wind shifted, just the smallest bit, sending the gauze wraps that Maxim had removed from her feet earlier fluttering on the lounger. The captain lifted the assault rifle and sprayed the entire area with bullets.

She flattened herself against the wall, shocked at the sound of the gun as it spewed what seemed like a million bullets. She didn’t think he’d ever stop. The sound hurt her ears and she couldn’t stop herself from covering them.

The captain must have caught that little flash of movement and he started to turn toward her, the rifle still spitting bullets. She froze, unable to move even as the barrel began to swing around.

Maxim kicked away from the ceiling, diving headfirst, slamming into the captain hard, driving him over sideways, his hands grabbing the rifle. Airiana jammed her fist into her mouth as the two men struggled for possession of the weapon. The captain still had his finger on the trigger and tried desperately to turn the barrel toward Maxim.

She became aware of the dart gun still in her fist. Without giving herself time to think about it, she crawled forward. She had to crawl over Boris’s body. Grateful that she was small, and could fit in tight places, she moved around Maxim to get to the other side of the captain.

What the hell are you doing? If I move my finger he can pull the trigger and kill you. Get the hell away from here.

She ignored the warning and kept crawling, telling herself she was a tiny spider on the deck and the captain wouldn’t see her. The two men were grunting and cursing, their heels drumming at each another while both fought for control of the rifle. She pushed herself into the small space between the captain and the wall.

Damn it, shoot the bastard if you’re going to. What are you waiting for?

She’d been so focused on getting to the captain’s neck, it hadn’t occurred to her that she could dart him anywhere. She pressed the gun against his thigh and pulled the trigger. Just for good measure she shot him again in his chest. The drug was fast acting and hit the captain hard. His eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp.

Maxim tore the rifle from his hands and glared at her. “Are you deliberately trying to get yourself killed? Airiana, all he had to do was push that muzzle toward you and squeeze the trigger.”

She let the dart gun fall from her hand, drew up her knees and put her head down on top of them. Her eyes burned with tears, her throat was clogged with them. There was no way to stop them, no way to keep not just her eyes from weeping, but her entire body. She’d killed a man, using gifts meant for good. The world around her was complete madness.

Maxim felt as if she’d just delivered a wicked punch straight to his heart. He’d made her cry. Really cry. Her entire body was shaking and she’d wrapped her arms tightly around her knees, locking him out.

“I’m sorry. You just scared me, honey. It’s no big deal. You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re good.” He used his most soothing voice. She had to stop. What was wrong with him that he could be tortured and yet couldn’t stand the sight of her crying? How cliché was that?

“I want to go home. Can you just take me home?”

Airiana lifted her head abruptly, her sky blue eyes wet with tears. It was worse looking at her like that than listening to her. The impact was a knife through his heart, much worse than a punch.

“I’ll get you home, baby. Just stop.” He reached over the captain and lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She winced as if lifting her hurt her physically. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but we’re much closer to our goal.”

She held herself stiff, as if she couldn’t bear his touch, and that hurt worse than if she’d just slapped him. He had to give her something—a truth about himself. Something she would recognize was more than an apology. He searched for the right thing, feeling a little desperate, needing to make things right between them.

“I never considered that I might have a double standard, Airiana, but I do. I wasn’t given a choice when I was taken from my family and placed in that school. There was no running away, no way to be anything but what they wanted me to be. I became what they made me.”

He nuzzled her neck. Inhaled her scent. She was warm and soft and made for him. He had known that from the first time he’d researched her.

“The point, Airiana, is I had no choice. I made up my mind that, although I had to accept the hand dealt to me, never again would I be in a position where I had no choice.”

She was listening to him. The tension hadn’t left her body and she wasn’t melting into him the way he wanted her to, but still, she was listening.

“Clearly I’m not good at explaining myself. I’ve never had to, nor have I wanted to. But you came along and my well-ordered world was turned upside down. Inside out. You messed with my head. I had no choice when it came to you, honey.”

There. It was out. He made it sound so matter-of-fact, not at all like the fire raging in his soul. He hadn’t wanted to want her. He didn’t want a woman he was destined for. He didn’t want a woman at all. She complicated everything. She left him with no choices—something he’d vowed would never happen again, and he was damned angry with her.

He turned her hand over and pried open her fingers, exposing her palm. His thumb brushed over the center and for a moment the two interconnected circles appeared beneath her skin and just as quickly disappeared. He sighed. “Baby, you have to stop crying. I’m trying to tell you something important and I can’t think straight when you’re like this.” If he could have ordered her to stop, he would have.

She leaned her head against his chest and looked up at him with tear-drenched eyes. “I’m listening.”

He nodded and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I have this anger inside of me, buried so deep and it never gets let out—I wouldn’t dare let it out. I don’t even know how to let it out anymore, which is a good thing. It just sits there, smoldering like a volcano, and once in a while it tries to surface. You changed my world, and I put you deep inside, where all that anger resides. I didn’t want some slip of a woman forcing me to put my mark on her. I knew what it meant, and I knew neither of us would ever be free again, but, still, for all my discipline, all my training, I couldn’t stop myself.”

Airiana frowned and looked down at her palm. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“A man in my position lives with absolute discipline. Everything I do or say is planned carefully. I don’t have compulsions I can’t overcome. That would be suicide. But I couldn’t stop myself from putting my mark on you. I tied us together.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one angry?”

“Yes. I can concede you’re right—even logical—but crazy, out-of-control emotions don’t make sense, and I have never chosen to live with emotions or be dictated to by them. Until I met you. All along you’ve screwed me up.”

Airiana finally relaxed into him completely, melting like she did, so that she felt a part of him. How could he explain to her how that felt? He was a man apart. He didn’t have a woman melt into him. He didn’t feel as if they shared the same mind or the same skin.

“Still, I offered myself to you and you rejected me.”

He winced at the hurt in her voice. He hadn’t had sex with her—something that was always calculated. He didn’t want that and refused to allow his mind or body to go in that direction with her.

“I’ve never made love to a woman. I’ve had sex a million times, I won’t lie, but I’ve never made love to a woman, and if I get that chance again, in the right time and the right place, I want it to be with you.”

He kissed her palm again and brought it to his face, rubbing it along his shadowed jaw. “I know I sound a little crazy right now, but that’s the way you make me feel. I just thought you should know.”

He waited, holding her palm to his jaw, willing her to understand when he wasn’t certain he understood what he was trying to tell her. An apology for rejecting her offer? A confession of anger because she made him feel something? That made no sense. Nothing he’d done after meeting her made any sense at all.

“You do realize I just killed a man, Maxim. I used the wind to push him overboard. I heard his back break and I don’t think I’ll ever get the sound out of my head. You’re telling me how you feel while we’re on a yacht out in the middle of nowhere and most of the crew is either dead or drugged.”

“I’m very aware of those things, yes,” he said.

She sighed. “Just checking that we’re on the same page, because I’m a little bit upset over it all. Especially the killing part.”

“Really? The killing seemed the least of it all to me. I’m upset over your crying. That just has to stop. You do it just a little too much, and I think my hair is going a little gray.”

“Killing is wrong.”

“Not if it’s in self-defense, honey, and you were defending yourself.” He was still inside. Waiting. She was turning what he’d said over and over in her mind. He needed acceptance from her.

Airiana sighed and pushed her fingers through his hair. “I don’t see any gray, Maxim. Tell me the rest. I need to hear everything.”

Everything made him even more vulnerable. Maybe that’s what love was, and he didn’t want to go there. He had no choice again. She wasn’t about choices, only truth. “I don’t want to love you. Not a woman like you. Loving you would be terrifying, Airiana, every minute of every day. I was terrified as a child and again, swore I wouldn’t ever be as an adult—and I haven’t been, no matter the circumstances—until you.”

She pressed her lips together as if stopping herself from condemning him. He couldn’t blame her if she did. He’d tied them together and then run for his life. The silence stretched between him, taking away his choices again. She wasn’t going to give herself to him again. He understood that. She’d offered once and he’d thrown her offer back in her face.

“You’re the kind of woman that consumes a man. I can’t get you out of my head. I’ll never be free of you. I know that already and I haven’t shared your body yet.” He’d slipped up and used the word yet. There was a part of him already accepting that he couldn’t walk away from her. He could use every excuse, but he wasn’t that strong.

“You make loving me sound like it just possibly could be the worst thing in the world. Worse than the life you lead now.”

He winced. He supposed as a declaration of love, he hadn’t done a very good job. “I suppose you could take it like that.”

For a moment the storm in her eyes grew a little turbulent and he braced himself for her answer. He’d never exposed himself to anyone like that in his life. He’d never looked into his soul, let alone showed who he was to another human being. She had such power over him, and that was the problem. He didn’t want anyone to have that kind of control over him.

Her gaze softened and she nuzzled his chest. “I’m going to take everything you said as a compliment. Thank you for thinking I’m worth loving, even though you don’t want to love me. I can understand feeling as if you don’t have a choice.” She lifted her face and bit him gently on his chin. “Just remember, you aren’t in this alone. You may think you are, but I’m right here with you. I didn’t have a choice when you did the palm thing. I can’t help being drawn to you. There are two of us feeling this way, not one.”

He nodded slowly. He felt he could breathe again. His lungs actually felt raw, burning from lack of air, but the moment the storm clouds had faded from her eyes, the moment she indicated she understood, the world righted itself.

“I’ll remember that, honey, I promise. You just work very hard on the crying thing. You could be the perfect woman without that little flaw.”

Her eyebrow shot up. “Flaw? You might be the perfect man if you didn’t actually open your mouth and speak.”

The storm was back, at least threatening to come back. He could see it in her eyes. “On further thought, flaw would not be the correct word.”

Laughter broke through the storm clouds. “Nice retraction. Can we get out of here now before something else happens? I have this really awful feeling and I don’t think I can take any more killing. Or drugging. It’s one thing to read about all these awful people in the news; it’s another to actually deal with them in person.”

“Why is it that every time you shift position you wince?”

“Gorya knew some monkey form of martial arts and kicked the crap out of me,” she admitted. “There isn’t a place on my body that doesn’t hurt. My eye is throbbing and my feet feel like they’re on fire.”

His heart skipped a beat. Gorya could have killed her. She hadn’t said anything to him, or cried out for help. She’d just railed at the fact that she had a difficult time darting the steward. He resisted the urge to shake her. There it was, that anger welling up because he could have lost her. She had no business being in danger. “You’re a mess.”

She bit his chin again, this time a little harder.

“What was that for?”

“For what you were just thinking.”

“You can’t possibly know what I was thinking. I have a stone face. No one reads me.”

“I can read you, so stop thinking idiotic thoughts. You kidnapped me and brought me into danger. Had it not been for you, I’d be safe at home.”

“I saved you from Evan’s men,” he said. “That should count for something.”

“Well, it doesn’t. I’ve seen what you can do. If you’d wanted, you could have wiped up the floor with Evan’s men and none of this would have happened. You were too busy taking me to meet dear old Dad, and to be honest, I wasn’t all that thrilled with him.”

He nodded solemnly. “That could have been a mistake on my part.”

“You liked him, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he conceded a bit grudgingly. “As far as I ever like anyone. He seemed genuinely interested in you and excited to meet you.”

“I’m certain that he was—but for all the wrong reasons.”

“Do you think you can stand up on your own?” he asked.

“I’ve been giving that some thought,” she replied. “It depends on what we do next.”

“I thought we might take this yacht in close to shore and get the hell off of it.”

Her eyebrow shot up. “Off of it. That part sounds good, but close to shore is not so good. That requires getting in the water again. I have cuts on my feet, and there are sharks in the water.”

“You’re a little obsessed with sharks.”

“I’m a little obsessed with not getting eaten by one,” she corrected. She sighed, the amusement fading. She closed her eyes and snuggled deeper against him. “Do you ever get to sleep, Maxim? Because I think I could sleep for a week.”

He wanted to tell her it was all right, but like Airiana, he felt alarms were going off. He held her tighter, while he went still, listening to the wind, feeling the air around them. The yacht moved slowly through the water on autopilot, allowing him to get a good feel for everything around them. Out in the distance there was a boat, but it was small and didn’t appear to be following them. Still . . . something wasn’t quite right.

He rubbed his chin over the top of her head, trying to give her a few minutes. He knew he was going to ask her to get back in the water—the one thing she was most terrified of. His every instinct was to shield her, to protect her, yet, he was going to force her back into the sea at night.

Strands of her hair caught in the rough shadow on his jaw, weaving them together. Earlier, it would have bothered him, the need to find things that would hold her to him, but right now, when he was trying to comfort her, he found the little things like those threads binding them comforted him as well.

“Thanks for listening to me, baby. I know I’m not the easiest man in the world to understand. Hell. I don’t understand myself, but at least you give it a try.”

“You’re not that bad, Maxim,” she replied without opening her eyes. “You’re just a little mixed up right now. I am too. We need a minute to just stay still. Maybe if we don’t move, nothing bad will happen.”

He knew it didn’t work like that. His alarms were beginning to affect his gut, tying him up in knots, always a bad sign. He took a breath and let it out. “I’m going to put you on the lounger and gather our things for a quick exit. I’d like to take us as close to shore as possible.”

“We’re really going to have to swim again, aren’t we?” she asked.

He thought it significant that she didn’t open her eyes or protest. She was too damned tired. “I’d give anything to keep us from having to make the swim, but it isn’t safe to stay aboard too much longer. The captain had to have reported to Sorbacov, and he’ll have people waiting in every harbor.”

He hoped that was his greatest worry, but he feared it was Evan Shackler-Gratsos. The shipping magnate had plenty of time to send his mercenaries after them. He was certain his gut wouldn’t be acting the way it was if they weren’t close.

“I’m going to sleep until you say it’s time to go,” she announced.

He stood up in one swift move, cradling her in his arms. “I have to take a look at you. I need to know if anything is broken or cracked. The closer we get to shore, the harder it can be.”

“I doubt if anything’s broken, but I can’t honestly say for sure,” she admitted. “I really hurt.”

She didn’t even sound as if she was complaining. He had to admit to himself that was one of the things he found endearing about her. She could have been a pain in the ass. He’d kidnapped her and exposed her to danger, to killing, to a human trafficking ring, even forcing her to face her worst fear—swimming in the ocean—but she didn’t complain. She used humor to get her through.

He placed her gently on the lounger, not liking the rush of air escaping her lungs when he put her down, but she didn’t cry out. “I’ll be right back. I don’t want any unexpected surprises from our captain.”

“What about the other crew members?”

“I took care of them. Even the chef. No more delicious meals.” He went back to slip zip ties on the captain and Boris in the event that either woke up while he was examining Airiana. Neither man appeared as if he would be waking up any time soon. She’d darted them more than once.

Maxim stood looking down at her. Her face was swollen on one side, her eye purple now from her encounter with one of Sorbacov’s assassins. He found it particularly disturbing to see the bruises on her face. She looked fragile, delicate, far too innocent to be involved in such a mess.

He crouched down beside her. Her feet were bandaged but there was no more blood leaking through the gauze. He knew she was awake by her breathing, but she didn’t lift her lashes. He brushed back the hair tumbling around her face with a gentle hand.

“You’re almost home, baby. We’re close.”

She smiled without opening her eyes. “I know. I’m just resting, Maxim. I’m all right. More upset over Gorya than anything else.”

“I’m going to touch you, honey, I have to get under your clothes.”

She did open her eyes then, all that glorious blue hitting him hard. The impact was felt in the region of his heart. “I trust you, Maxim. You don’t have to tell me that.”

He pushed her shirt up over her flat belly and narrow rib cage. Already he could see the bruises coming up. The one along her left side was enormous and ugly. He felt carefully with his fingers, looking for evidence that her ribs were broken.

“I was moving when he kicked me. I didn’t take the full impact,” she assured.

His expression must have been frightening. Had Gorya been standing in front of him, Maxim might have beaten him to death. “I don’t think your ribs are broken, you wouldn’t be able to take a full breath. Still, this is going to hurt worse tomorrow.”

He pulled her shirt down and opened her jeans to slide them over her slender hips. His breath caught in his throat. There was more bruising along her hip and thigh. No wonder she wasn’t walking.

“I should have come here first, Airiana. I’m sorry. They came at me in force and I didn’t think they would try to hurt you.”

“He didn’t want me to shoot him with the dart gun. He may have thought I killed Boris,” she said.

He fastened her jeans. “Don’t make excuses for him. If I could find him on the ocean floor I’d kill him all over again.”

She laughed and then caught at her sides. “Don’t. That hurts.”

He found it astonishing that she could laugh about anything. The wind shifted, slapping at the yacht hard. The smile faded from her face and she struggled into a sitting position.

“They’re here, Maxim. We’re surrounded.”

“I know, baby,” he admitted softly.